The Unexpected
by CretianStar
Summary: Quite literally the unexpected. Post Reichenbach. OC, no pairing for Sherlock as of yet!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I am on fire today! But regardless of checking out my other stories (which you can do) This little number was when I was rewatching the first series! I hope it will only be one or two, it's not planned or anything, so tell me if it comes over as unstructured! Thanks!

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Chapter 1

"Don't you ever get lonely Sherlock?" She asked as he read over her shoulder.

"He doesn't leave his wife, she realises he's a tosser and runs off with the guitarist." He blanked her question.

"I know. I've already read it." She smiled at his frown. He opened his mouth. "This is a gift, to replace the ones that got tore apart in the… move." She raised an eyebrow, his mouth closed and he sulked. "Mr Watson was kind enough to buy it for me." She smiled at Sherlock's reaction as he pointedly turned away.

"You knew you were sharing a house with a sociopath." His only defence was called from over his shoulder.

"Sociopaths do not tear apart 400 books. Psychopaths do." She sighed, he turned to stare at her, she didn't even raise her eyes to his. "Also sociopaths feel nothing. You do feel Sherlock." She held up one finger. "Thus you have no claim of being a sociopath any longer … Shirley." She laughed; he totally hated the nickname. His anger was evident as he attempted to grab her book, destroy the offending novel for a second time but she was a lot faster. She closed it and began to hit him around the head with it. Grabbing his collar through his flailing arms she yanked him off the couch and sat astride him, claiming victory by tickling the man.

He cursed that she'd discovered another weakness; his neck, there was a reason for the scarves and high collars.

"Do you surrender?" She grinned impishly, his arms pinned beneath her legs, he stared at her furiously, mute in his anger, she only laughed harder as they heard voices from the hallway below. John Watson walked in with DI Lestrade and Sargent Donovan.

"She's young for you Sherlock? Practically jailbait." Sally Donovan sneered.

"Actually I'm eighteen and perfectly legal…thanks." She disliked Sally, and was only just polite to the woman.

"She beat you again then Sherlock?" John strode in, pulling the girl off of Sherlock. "What was it this time?" John retrieved the shopping from the door as Sherlock swept to the couch and sat, glaring at the room's occupants, daring anyone to take the piss.

"The nickname." The girl had sat in the armchair, settling with her book.

"Nickname?" Sally Donovan's eyes were alight at another chance to annoy Holmes.

"It's something a little more original than freak." The girl looked up and eyed the sergeant with dislike, the venom barely concealed. Sherlock looked from Donovan to the girl with interest, the poisonous chat was unexpected, he'd expected her to side with Donovan; well she was Moriarty's cousin after all, what was the saying? 'Blood ran thicker than water'

John tossed a case file to Sherlock, who snorted with derision before staring again at the young woman before him, back to reading her book.

"Jessica we need to talk." Sherlock's smile was unexpected. From behind the book, while her eyes still scanned the pages, she smiled too.

"What does this one say?" She peered over the top of the book.

"This one?" Lestrade sat opposite her.

"Sherlock's meant to be dead yes? John saw him fall. Well Sherlock saw my cousin die. Take a hint." She winked, and took pleasure in seeing Lestrade recoil, Sherlock freeze and John pale. Sally Donovan frowned but Jessica amended that, Sally always frowned.

"There's a chance that M… your cousin is alive?" John stammered on the name.

"Oh yes, the snake's pulled the gag before." She hissed, laying her book down on the table. "But please, tell me my dossier, I want to see how far dear James has gone this time." She reclined.

"Drug trafficking, prostitution, attempted murder, CIA wants you for fraud and Interpol for crimes against humanity." Lestrade read off while Sherlock eyed the vivacious Jessica.

"Well he's pushed the boat out this time, CIA and Interpol, how has your brother not arrested me yet?" She turned to Sherlock. She stood up and reached for a backpack thrown by the door. "These are all I can find." Pushing the wad of papers towards Sherlock, he flicked between them; each a dossier from various police departments the languages and countries were vast – Portuguese, Spanish, French, German, Russian, Japanese. The locations varied from Sydney to New Jersey, Washington to Vietnam, Singapore to Beijing; all the rap sheets varied, from murder to mugging.

"You see, you're not the only victims of my cousin." She sat opposite them. "Now I want to help you nail the bastard."

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A/N: I'm fairly sure these stories won't run from one event to another smoothly, so bear with me, I'm working on it. Anyway R&R


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I was right, the events aren't continuous. The mysteries are not gonna play a massive part in this, it's more about Sherlock etc. But please enjoy!

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"Sherlock"

"Shush" He held a hand up, face turned away.

"Sherlock." She repeated, panting. He'd pinned her to a wall outside the museum she'd been, studying… or casing.

"You promised." Even inside his mind it sounded childish, when it came from his lips, it sounded worse.

"Sherlock, please let me explain!" She grated out, he'd forced her with his arm to her throat, choking the air supply, gradually lowered his arm. "I'm not casing for my cousin. You have to trust me." She felt him stiffen. "I'm casing it for you!" She yelled out as his pushed against her throat again. "You came here with the intention of examining the forgeries, but you found them locked away; not in the public gallery, correct?" He nodded, his hand locked against her shoulder. "Due to technical…talents of mine, I located them in Berkman's office, it's well guarded because he has some of the most prestigious antiquities in the world." Her eyes scanned his, searching for signs of anger.

"How did you know I was looking for the forgeries? How do I know it's not some elaborate lie because I'.." He shoved her against the wall, he looked at her again and changed his mind. "Well you obviously snooped through emails, and papers on my desk. Emails are password protected, but you've admitted to being a brilliant hacker, however I didn't write anything about them being forgeries. I only worked that out this morning, you're already here. The only logical option is your cousin." He slammed her against the wall and she cried out in pain.

"Last night!" She screamed.

"What?" He pinned her in place.

"You worked it out last night!" She gasped. "You talk in your sleep, I'd been snooping when you went out to dinner with John last night, you keep your notes in your room. I didn't realise how late the time was and you came home!" She panted as she felt his fingers twitch. "I hid under the bed until about 3 this morning. I didn't know if you were deducing to yourself or asleep! I couldn't risk it! I came here straight thing." She looked at Sherlock who's brain was working overtime.

"There's no proof."

"Your silk dressing gown is under your bed, I slept on it!" She panicked.

"Home now." He ordered and hailed a cab. The silence was palpable, he decided he liked it when she was nervous, but despite his brain working her story around, the idea that she watched him undress last night, floated around his head. He caught her eye and watched her worry her lower lip with her teeth, she nervously ducked her head, averting her gaze.

As the taxi pulled up outside 221b Baker Street, Sherlock manhandled Jessica up the stairs, past an indignant Mrs Hudson and a bewildered John into his bedroom. Pushing her onto the bed he knelt beside the bed and looked underneath; there was his navy dressing gown, a body shaped indent, one of her hairs across it, affirming her story. Counting to ten, he was aware that needed to be calm because as he turned he saw a rather furious Mrs Hudson and John.

"Would you like to explain what the bloody hell is going on?" John started to rant. Sherlock ignored his friend and turned to face Jessica.

"Please accept my apologies." John's anger dried up in his throat at watching the man apologise.

"Thank you Sherlock. I understand why you wouldn't believe me." She grinned and jumped off the bed. "Although if you want me in your bedroom, you don't need to force me." She winked and Mrs Hudson laughed as she disappeared out of the room while Sherlock sputtered.

She was sat at the kitchen table and watched as she drew the map and vaults of the museum, an entry and exit route planned.

"Criminal ways run in the family I guess." Sherlock remarked. Her expression hardened.

"Not quite, you'd have come up with the same thing, if you'd started when I did." She scowled storming to her attic room.

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A/N: I know it's a bit disjointed, but there is a plot line, I promise! Review.


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